


If only Septa Roelle...

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [86]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:46:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27263695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: When Jaime makes love to her for the first time, Brienne is reminded of all that her septa has told her in the past.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Many ways to say I love you [86]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1234904
Comments: 32
Kudos: 124





	If only Septa Roelle...

The way he looks at her - it goes deep, deeper than anything she’s ever felt before. 

From the insulting _‘you’re much uglier in daylight’_ to the lust and reverence in his eyes when she tentatively shed her shirt, from the disdain he once carelessly tossed at her to taking her in like she’s the most enchanting creature he’s set eyes on—Brienne can’t believe they’ve come this far. She can’t, yet, digest what the last few minutes have brought onto her, that Jaime Lannister has been lusting after her, that he’s burning inside, jealous of a man she’s barely even looked at, let alone desire. 

If only Septa Roelle could see the heat in his eyes for the ugly girl she’s minced no words criticizing, the affection for the wench thrice dismissed by men lesser than him...

The way he touches her - she’s only read tales about it.

Of how a lord would bed his new bride, she has only heard of from dainty girls who spent sunny days dreaming of knights, of their wedding, of the sweet seduction of the bedding that would follow. And now, here he is, and he's for real. Gentle feathery fingers, he takes to, at first, starting slowly, down and up, along and across, leaving no bit of skin unconquered. Lips and neck, belly and breasts, he travels everywhere, between his lady’s legs and deep within. His name, she utters, when his finger breaches all barriers. And when he twists inside her, she twitches, her toes, her fingers, having a mind of their own. She’s never yearned for a man this badly before, never ached this much to be touched. His pleasure, she needs in her, her name on his lips, the tremors of her sighs streaming through him. 

Men are born to be pleasured, her septa had once advised her, and women, made for them, made to give, never to expect, seldom allowed to express. But tonight, she comes to realize, when her hips dance to his finger, that this is not entirely true. Not with Jaime.

If only her dear septa had ever widened her mind to notice that men like him existed…

The way he kisses her - it feels like he’s been thirsting for this—for her, for ages. 

Her lips and tongue, he doesn’t limit himself to. He’s all over, doing things to her she’s never dreamed of. His mouth sings a tune she can’t help swaying to; he makes her feel like her body has been made for kissing. Sometimes tender, sometimes wildly urgent, sometimes sweet, sometimes scorching, he claims every part of her. He tugs at a nipple and she jerks into him, offering more of her breast. He bites, he sucks, and until she wriggles up with a helpless prolonged whimper, he lets his tongue and teeth prevail.

When he darts down to her legs, wedges his face between her thighs, it is the beginning of the end for her. Or, perhaps, the end of the beginning and the beginning of something she’s been denied all along? She cannot say. She cannot think anymore. The way his mouth is on her needy wetness, clamped, plucking, licking, she can barely breathe.

_Oh, gods, if only Septa Roelle had ever spared a thought to how deliciously a lord could get down on his lady!_

The way he spreads her open lavishly for him to devour, to touch, to kiss and admire—he takes his time. His breath spreading over her like a sheet, he sniffs at her arousal like it’s the best scent to have hit his senses. He pauses with every tremble he injects into her, raspy noises leaving his throat to penetrate her as mouth and fingers plunge deeper, fucking her, making love to her. 

If only Septa Roelle knew a man could worship a woman’s body…

The way he drives her to the edge, pushing her down only to drag her back up again—

This wonderful twilight world of elation and pain, he’s keeping her in, somewhere between night and day. She wants to see the sun again, yet, she cannot bring herself to end the night and tread into the light. She wants both, she’s never been this selfish before.

If only her Septa had believed that pleasure was a woman’s right, too… 

Spent, his hand and mouth leave her when he brings her back, though, they leave her with no time to savour this. His body is impatient, and so are his whispers when he slides back up on her. His eyes meet hers—her hunger, she can see in them.

If only Septa Roella had ever imagined a man could feel this much desire for a woman like her...

The way he teases her folds, preparing her, his kisses tell her she means the world to him. The way he edges and slides, letting his cock bathe in her arousal, the way he enters her as if she’s the most delicate thing he’s touched—

He rises, shifts himself to adjust to her, then slides in again.

He squeezes her breasts, devours her lips.

He plunges in, and she trusts him, knows he won’t hurt her. 

His mouth on hers, their sighs resonate, their hips unite then come apart, and converge to mate again. She can see the candle flame shine in his eyes, she can see the impatience and the need to take this as slowly as he can. He’s ready to wait, eager to give her that moment of perfect bliss he wants to share with her. At the same time, he wants to explode in her, to soar through the roofs with her.

If only her septa had spared a thought to the unusual, that the ugly Brienne, would one day, be presented with a night like this, a lover like Jaime.

He dives in, stretches her, and she grips his cock like her warmth is its home. His hot thrusts, she is home to, to the burning pressure he is swamping her with. He comes down hard on her, she can feel herself flaring up, the sparks within her slowly making their way to an explosion. Her skin grows hotter, she’s panting, sweating, her heart blistering away like the wind outside as the peak comes racing towards her. 

She grabs the sheets, desperate, wrenches out a fistful. She needs him once more. 

_Just once more_.

She lets go with a gasp, and with a soft burst of his name on her lips, embraces this wonderful newness of togetherness, the unbearable sensations he’s giving her. She can feel her climax gush over him, the heat flooding her when his teeth scrape her neck. She can feel his quivering body speak to hers when he joins her, drowning into this bottomless sea with her as he fills her, deep and within. 

Of course, her Septa could never have known a woman could feel this, too—this rise and fall of passion, the heart stopping contentment of two bodies merging into one in a moment so heavenly.

“Be mine,” her handsome knight says, kissing her softly as she breathes in his scent, tastes her arousal still lingering on his lips.

“I am,” Brienne replies, basking in the warmth and intimacy of this moment.

His sweet kisses are his way of telling her he is hers, that he will always be. This is the ultimate promise, the one no further words nor anything else can surpass.

If only Septa Roelle could read her mind right now...

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Would love to hear what you think.


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